


Irondad, Spiderson Flashfics

by emraldmoon



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Black Panther Shuri (Marvel), Gen, Genius Shuri (Marvel), Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Shuri Friendship, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Scientist Shuri (Marvel), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 13:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emraldmoon/pseuds/emraldmoon
Summary: Short oneshots (about 1k words) written about the father-son duo <3





	1. Peter runs out of web fluid mid-swing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @dantedeletes on Tumblr <3

Peter didn't know how it had happened.

One moment, he was swinging around the perimeter of the battle, keeping an eye out for any villains that had managed to escape Iron Man and his team, and the next he was on the ground, breath knocked out of him, black spots dancing before his eyes, a heavy throb felt in the back of his head, obvious broken ankles - the list went on and on.

The newest villain-of-the-week had tried to replicate Stark tech, and wanted to use it to take over the world for the "greater good". Honestly, Peter was getting tired of hearing the same villain spiel over and over. It was like, what had happened to all the  _ creative _ villains? Now it was just,  _ Stark tech _ this and  _ taking over the world _ that. So annoying.

Though, Peter's mood did a complete 180° when Tony actually let him tag along on the mission.

Tony was quick to explain that this was a very low-level villain, which was the only reason he was letting Peter join himself, Rhodes, and Natasha on the battlefield, but that was fine by Peter. Though Tony only allowed him to stay around the perimeter, and gave Karen  _ strict  _ instructions to notify Tony if more than two villains came Peter’s way at once, he was actually  _ fighting!  _ With the Avengers!

_ … Was  _ being the key word. Now, he was lying on the street, trying to bite back nausea and waiting for the city to stop spinning above him.

“Hey, kid.” Tony’s voice crackled over the com in his ear. “Good job out there. I saw you web up some of those stragglers. We got all the baddies on our end. Come on back to the rendezvous spot and we’ll discuss mission reports.”

And that was it.

A flicker of happiness flared to life in Peter’s chest.  _ Good job out there _ . Tony was proud of him! Maybe he’d even let Peter tag along on future missions.

Sure, Tony didn’t ask how Peter was doing, but Peter was actually grateful for that. If he had asked a question, Peter wouldn’t have been able to respond. His head was pounding, pain sizzled up his leg every time he twitched his toes, and he could feel blood trickling down near (what he figured was) a dislocated shoulder.

You know what? This was fine. Everything was okay. He was  _ fine _ . He was Spider-Man. He’d just… walk it off. Yeah. With his head pounding and vision swimming, he’d put pressure on his dislocated shoulder to push himself up until he was standing on his broken ankles, and then he’d swing to Tony. By the time he got there, he’d probably be healed anyways, right? No big deal.

Peter prepared himself to move, taking a deep breath-

Ow.  _ Ow. _

A sharp pain flickered throughout his chest. Some kind of bruised rib or something. Okay then. No deep breaths.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice came back to life in Peter’s ear, and he had to hold his breath to keep from making any pained noises. “You alright, kid?”

Peter could hear the worry in his mentor’s voice. He  _ had  _ to respond, or Tony would - well, Peter didn’t really know. Probably put out an amber alert or something.

“Yeah.” Peter grit his teeth to make sure no cries of pain or painful gasps got mixed in. “Coming.”

The worry in Tony’s voice was evident. “Everything okay, Pete?”

Peter made the mistake of trying to move.

He let out a hiss of pain as black spots danced across his vision. The pain in his head increased tenfold. He felt like his thoughts had hardened and were physically banging against the inside of his skull. That’ll teach him for trying to move his head to the side.

“Sit tight, kid. I’m coming.”

The com clicked off before Peter had the chance to argue, the sudden sound of repulsors on full blast being the last thing he heard.

_ Alright _ , Peter thought to himself, a heavy feeling of dread settling in his chest.  _ Last chance to move before Tony gets here to convince him you’re okay and can help on the next mission. _

Peter took a few shallow breaths (learning his lesson from before to not take big ones) and prepared himself to move.  _ On the count of three _ .  _ One _ . Peter forced his eyes open, trying to focus on the clouds above him through the black spots.  _ Two _ . He tensed his fingers in anticipation.  _ Three _ . He blacked out.

  * • •



When Peter came to, he knew exactly where he was. He had been here many times before - the med bay. And because he had been here so many times, he knew exactly what would happen next.

_ Three… Two… One… _

Tony came rushing into the room, right on time.

“Peter, thank goodness,” he sighed, clutching a hand to his chest. Peter rolled his eyes, the action almost making him black out again. His vision went black as he fought to regain focus. When he recovered, he saw Tony sitting at the foot of his bed, facing him. He was wearing his sunglasses as he stared at Peter, but the boy could still see the stern expression Tony wore from the tightness of his lips, the flaring of his nostrils. It wasn’t hard to match his eyes to the picture. It wasn’t like Peter hadn’t seen similar disappointment in them many times before.

“Don’t worry,” Peter mumbled, tongue feeling heavy and unnaturally large. “I’m alright.”

“That’s because we have you practically drowning in morphine,” Tony retorted, voice tight. Peter blushed and looked down, hearing Tony sigh. His voice was quieter when he said his next words. “What happened, kid? We checked your suit after and you were completely out of web fluid.”

With the tension stripped away, Peter thought he could hear something close to  _ fear  _ in Tony’s voice - fear, and desperation.

Peter shrugged, the image of himself trying to replicate the Iron Man mask with his webs on a wall replaying in his mind. You couldn’t really  _ blame  _ him - he made sure the perimeter was clear before participating in the aimless task, and he  _ was  _ getting bored…. “Must’ve forgotten to refill it.”

Tony cocked his head like he was skeptical, but let it go.

“You can’t forget stuff like that, kid. You know when I finally got to you, you were unconscious? Body twisted in all sorts of unnatural positions, bleeding out. I thought-” Tony cut himself off abruptly and looked away, his hands clenched into fists against his legs. Peter’s heart seemed to drop to his feet as he looked up at Tony’s hunched-over form.

“I’m sorry.” His whisper was soft, but still audible.

Tony looked back up at him, reaching up to gently pull the glasses off his face and set them down on the table beside Peter’s bed. His eyes were serious, but red with dark bags underneath them. He had been crying.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that again, Peter Benjamin Parker,” he chastised, eyes wide and unblinking.  _ He looks a little like Nick Fury _ , Peter thought suddenly, but he had to shoo the thought away, it was so weird. He nodded slowly, taking caution to remember what he was now positive to be a concussion.

Tony sighed, and his whole body seemed to deflate with relief and the exhaustion that came from being upset and stressed for so long.

“Okay. Come here. Actually, that was rhetorical. Don’t move.” He moved to sit against the headboard beside Peter and held his hands open, letting Peter fall into them until he was lying against his mentor’s chest. “Kid, you really did a number on yourself.”

Peter chuckled lightly, the list of self-assessed injuries making itself known in his mind - though, he was painfully aware there were probably so many more officially diagnosed ones he had no idea about.

Peter felt Tony sigh deeply beneath him, and he could practically feel the tension being released from the man. He urged himself to do the same - but with a smaller breath, obviously. The pain in his ribs (and all over, actually) was barely there anymore underneath the morphine and his enhanced healing, but it still hurt to breathe - and that wasn’t a good feeling.

After a moment of silence, Peter finally got up the courage to ask what he’d been nervous about the entire time.

“Can I still come with you on your next mission?”

Maybe Tony would be forgiving. It wasn’t  _ Peter’s  _ fault, just his suit’s low capacity for web fluid. Peter was sure Tony realized this, too. He would say,  _ Of course, my favourite protégé _ , and then the two of them would become the best crime-fighting partners the world had ever seen-

Tony laughed suddenly, short and loud.

“Nope.” He popped the  _ p _ . “Never again. Actually, your patrolling time is being reduced. An hour,  _ maximum _ , each night.”

Peter sat up so fast his head spun (but then again, that wasn’t such a hard thing to accomplish at the moment).

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Tony just shook his head.

“Come on, Mr. Stark, that’s not fair! It wasn’t my fault, and-”

“Keep complaining, and it’ll be half an hour, grounded. I’ll confiscate your web fluid.”

Peter glared at him, but Tony just wanted to laugh. He looked like a puppy, trying to be intimidating.

“Fine,” Peter finally conceded, grumbling, and he leaned back against his mentor, who was now chuckling slightly.

“Oh, and also, I know about your little homemade Iron Man mural-slash-shrine.”

“ _ What? _ ”


	2. Peter meets Shuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For @dantedeletes on Tumblr <3
> 
> *WARNING: this is an Endgame fix-it that may include spoilers!!*

The battle was finally over.

Thanos had been defeated. The dusted were now brought back. They had  _ won _ .

Technically, it was thanks to Tony.  _ He  _ was the one that had been brave enough, strong enough, to wear the gauntlet and snap his fingers. Everyone kept thanking  _ him  _ for it - but realistically, he knew he couldn’t take credit, because it wasn’t  _ just  _ him. It was all of the Avengers, and the Revengers ( _ really, Thor? _ ) and the Guardians, and everyone who had joined hands around the battlefield and shared the damage until it was stretched so thin, the only thing it left behind was PTSD.

So, week after week, Tony was travelling (followed closely by his protégé) to personally thank every individual person who helped him to win, to  _ survive  _ \- because he knew there was no way he would’ve survived without them.

This week, he was heading to Wakanda.

He had called ahead, obviously - he had grown to trust Steve once again, but still wanted a second opinion when the man had told Tony he had to  _ fly into the side of a mountain _ \- and so T’Challa, Shuri, and Okoye, along with about a dozen Dora Milaje were standing to greet him as Tony stepped down from his personal jet, Peter bouncing excitedly beside him.

Tony had to force back laughter as he saw the brown curls flounce around beside him. The kid was just  _ so damn excited _ . At first, he was nervous, asking Tony anxiously if he had to dress formally - but after Tony reassured him that an honest-to-goodness  _ suit  _ was in no means necessary, excitement seemed to be the only expression he was capable of showing as he paced alongside Tony in his NASA hoodie.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the lack of a suit that got him excited, Tony thought, but the Wakandan princess Tony had told him about.

_ “You’re sure I don’t have to wear a suit?” Peter asked, fiddling with his fingers anxiously. “You’re not gonna show up on the day you’re picking me up in a suit of your own, right?” _

_ Tony just laughed. “Kid, you think I’m tricking you? Take a good look.” He gestured down to the jeans and AC/DC t-shirt he was currently sporting. “This is all you’re gonna get.” _

_ Peter seemed to relax at that, his expression sinking into one of a weak smile. He nodded. “Good.” _

_ “Yeah, I heard they dress really casual there,” Tony continued thoughtfully. “Even the royalty. You remember the Black Panther? His name’s T’Challa, by the way.  _ King  _ T’Challa, technically.” _

_ Peter instantly perked up, stars beginning to shine in his eyes as he nodded quickly. Tony remembered when the kid reacted that way for Iron Man, so long ago. _

_ “Whoa, okay, you seem way too excited, especially because I’m about to tell you about his  _ sister _.” _

_ Rather than deflating, like Tony had expected, Peter just looked even  _ more  _ excited. _

_ “Sister?” _

_ “Yup.” Tony popped the  _ p _. “I heard they have to threaten to take away her lab time if they want her to dress formally for special occasions.” _

_ Peter’s eyes grew even wider, if possible. “Lab time?” _

_ “Oh. Yeah.” Tony held a hand to his head, like he was face-palming. “Yeah, Shuri. She makes all their technology there. It’s insane. She’s even smarter than me. Did I really not tell you this? I could learn a thing or two from her - or even, like, fifty.” _

_ Peter shook his head vigorously. “No. No one’s smarter than you.” _

_ “She is.” _

_ “She can’t be.” _

_ “She really is.” _

_ “It’s not possible.” _

_ “Kid, I promise you, I’m not kidding. She’s incredible. Made T’Challa’s suit, too.” _

_ By this point, Tony was surprised Peter’s eyes were still in his head. _

_ “The one that repels bullets?” _

_ “That very one.” _

_ “When- when can I meet her?” _

_ Tony laughed. “As soon as we get off the jet, I hope. You’ll love her.” Peter nodded slowly, looking starstruck, as if he could already imagine all the cool stuff he could work on with her - and Tony was excited to see it, too. “Actually, I think she’s around your age.” _

_ “WHAT?” _

Tony shot Peter a quick, smirking side glance at the memory as he stepped in front of Peter to reach T’Challa, reaching out to shake his hand strongly. T’Challa was wearing a coat that looked like it was meant for ceremonial occasions, which Tony hoped the kid wasn’t too put-off by.

“King T’Challa,” he greeted, smiling as he released his hand.

“Please, Mr. Stark, just T’Challa.”

“Alright then, T’Challa, call me Tony.”

T’Challa nodded in recognition, before turning his attention to Peter.

It was like Tony saw what was going to happen before it did.

Without thinking, Tony reached his hand out to grip Peter’s shoulder, the boy’s feet stumbling over the pavement. He caught himself suddenly and looked up at Tony gratefully.

“I take it you’re Peter Parker?” T’Challa asked, smiling kindly. Peter nodded his head so vigorously, Tony thought it might fall off.

“Yes, King Mr. T’Challa, Sir.” He crouched in something that looked like a bow, and Tony didn’t know whether to laugh at just how  _ pure  _ the kid was, or whether he should look away in second-hand embarrassment - though, it seemed that T’Challa had beat him to it.

He held out his hands, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “That’s not necessary,” he stuttered, and Peter lifted himself back up, his face beet red. Okay,  _ now  _ Tony was laughing.

“So, you’re the great Spider-Man?” T’Challa asked with a smile. If possible, Peter’s blush grew even deeper as he nodded.

“And, you - you’re the- the panther. Black. Black cat, I mean. Panther-”

“Okay, kid,” Tony gripped Peter’s shoulder and pulled the kid against his side. “I’m gonna have to stop you there.”

T’Challa looked like he was about to burst out laughing as he looked fondly at Peter. Tony easily indentified the expression - of course, he had seen it on his own face enough times.

Peter took a breath against Tony’s side, and Tony held him just a tad tighter, figuring how his anxiety must’ve been acting up. He took the time to look around at the rest of the reception party, his eyes falling on Okoye, standing to the right of T’Challa.

Her back was straight, spear held securely at her side, posture perfect, but Tony didn’t miss the side glances she was shooting in Peter’s direction. He had already won over  _ her  _ heart, too - and honestly, Tony wasn’t surprised. Anyone that met the kid fell in love with him almost instantly.

Suddenly, a new face pushed its way into Tony’s sight, one he recognized belonged to Shuri, and Tony smiled when he saw she was wearing just what he had predicted - a graphic tee with simple zig-zagging lines, and a light brown skirt. He felt Peter straighten beside him.

“Princess Shuri,” Tony nodded in greeting. Shuri cast a surprised look at her brother.

“ _ Princess _ Shuri? Brother, why don’t you treat me with this much respect?”

“Because you’re my little sister,” he shot back as he stepped towards her, and it was clear they were about to get into a minor argument before Okoye stepped between them.

“My Princess,” she urged, raising her eyebrows at Shuri. “My King,” she continued, spitting through gritted teeth as she turned to glare at T’Challa. “We have visitors.”

Tony smiled as he watched their interaction, taking an instant liking to Okoye. 

Shuri turned back to smile at Tony, which he returned easily. Then, she looked down to Peter.

“And who are you?”

“ _ Sister _ ,” T’Challa scolded, but she just stuck her tongue out at him. He looked away, a look of (fond) annoyance evident on his face.

“I-” Peter spoke up, and all eyes turned to him - though, this only seemed to cause him to shut down. “I- it’s- uh-”

“Peter,” Tony introduced for him, shaking the kid’s shoulder gently.  _ Come on, kid, wake up. _ “This is Peter Parker.”

“Uh - yeah.” Peter smiled shakily as he thrust his hand out towards Shuri. “Yeah, that’s me. Parker. Oh, uh,  _ Peter _ , I mean.”

Tony wanted to repeatedly bang his head against a wall.  _ I literally just gave you the words, kid. _

Shuri just seemed amused as she shook his hand, smiling brightly. “Nice to meet you Peter.”

Peter just looked at a loss for words. “Uh-huh.”

Tony couldn’t hold it back anymore. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply in frustration, chest rising and falling drastically. Shuri seemed to notice, and giggled slightly. The next thing Tony knew, something was pulling Peter away from his grip. He shot open his eyes, and saw Shuri tugging a shocked (and still bright-red) Peter away from him.

“So, I heard you’re Spider-Man,” Tony heard her say, watching incredulously as his kid got pulled further and further away from him.

“Me? Oh, uh,  _ no _ . No, of course - of course  _ I’m  _ not Spider-Man, I mean-”

Shuri laughed again. “You don’t need to pretend here. I know.”

Tony could see Peter’s shoulders slump in relief.

“So, uh, w-where are we going?” he asked, and Tony was proud at the fact that  _ he said a full sentence! _

“To my lab, of course,” Shuri answered, as if it was obvious. “You  _ need  _ to tell me how your webs work. Is that nylon? No, it can’t be. How do you get them so  _ strong _ ?” She trailed off, asking questions and posing theories to herself that she answered almost immediately after.

Even from this distance, Tony could see the kid beaming.


	3. Science fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @dantedeletes on Tumblr <3

Tony looked up from his project suddenly when he heard a quiet knock at his workshop window. He let the screwdriver fall from his hand without a second thought when he met the eyes of Peter Parker, his tiny hand curled into a fist, repeatedly banging against the glass.

Tony stood, his mouth in a wide grin, as he hurried over to open the door for Peter and let the seven-year-old run into the workshop, eyes lit up by the mechanics and machinery Tony had lying around.

_ Howard sighed when he heard a knock on the door frame of his office. He looked up, flicking his pen to the desk as he stared at his son. _

_ “What is it, Anthony?” he deadpanned. _

“How was school, kiddie?” Tony asked with a smile, watching Peter marvel at what Tony had begun to take for granted. Peter was always impressed by the workshop, even though he saw it every day. After school, the boy would always sprint down to the workshop and just… look. Tony had grown used to it.

Today, though, Tony knew that there was something special that had happened at school, something Peter had been working toward for the last month. Today was about  _ Peter _ , and giving him the recognition he deserved.

Tony snuck up behind Peter (which wasn’t hard, with how in awe the kid was), grabbed him around the waist, and tossed him in the air, amidst his squeals.

“Did something happen at school today? Anything you want to show me?” Tony caught Peter and held him out at arm’s length. He was surprisingly light, even with the Iron Man backpack he wore.

Peter’s eyes lit up at the reminder, as if he had forgotten already.

“The science fair!” he squealed, legs kicking in excitement. Tony couldn’t help but join in and laugh as he began to swing his kid in a circle.

_ “I-I had my school science fair today.” _

_ “And?” _

_ Tony flinched back at Howard’s harsh tone. _

“Yeah? How’d it go? Did you have fun?”

Peter’s giggles grew as Tony swung him around like discus (albeit a lot more gentle).

“Da-ad!” Peter laughed, and the sound was like music to Tony’s ears. “It’s in my bag! You’re gonna break it!”

_ “Well, I made a mini robot. It can walk and… and everything.” _

_ “Everything, huh?” Howard made a gesture for Tony to bring the project closer. Tony stepped forward sheepishly from the doorway and handed him the robot, which Howard inspected closely… before he began bending the pieces in ways they shouldn’t be bent. _

_ “It’s not strong enough, Anthony. The hinges aren’t tightened, the material isn’t strong enough….” _

_ “Dad, please, you’re going to break it!” _

_ “That’s not my problem, then, is it?” _

“Wait, wait,  _ what’s  _ in your bag?” Tony put Peter down and stepped back, kneeling so he could look his kid in the eyes. Peter slid his bag off his back and unzipped it, staring at Tony with a mischievous grin. He held his hands in his bag and his arms disappeared up to his shoulders, waiting to reveal what was inside.

“Are you ready?” He spoke as if he was about to show Tony some kind of super secret, mysterious object that had never seen before. Tony made a serious expression, pinching his lips together and narrowing his eyes playfully. Peter laughed, and Tony couldn’t hold his expression any longer, especially not while looking at the smiling face of his son.

In a single motion, Peter squeezed his eyes shut with a wide grin, pulled the object out of his bag, and jumped in the air with a loud, “Ta-da!”

Peter was triumphantly holding a trophy high in his tiny hands. Upon closer inspection, Tony noticed the Dollarama sticker underneath and could make out the word  _ Participation  _ on the side, but Peter was holding it as if it was his most prized possession.

_ “Well, was there a grading system?” Tony nodded quickly, a small smile beginning to grow. “And?” _

_ “I got second place!” Tony held up his red ribbon, smiling proudly. Howard just shook his head. _

_ “Anthony,” he sighed, and Tony’s face fell. “Who beat you?” _

_ “O-Olivia Jenkins, Sir.” _

_ “And what did she make?” _

_ “A circuit board.” _

_ Howard ran his hand down his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You came second place to a circuit board?” _

_ Tony went silent. _

Tony’s eyes widened in surprise, and his arms opened wide. “Petey-Pie!” he exclaimed, and Peter’s smile grew wider as he started to bounce on his feet again. “You got a trophy?”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Peter was panting now, his excitement exhausting him. “Ned got one too, but his said second place, and it was  _ so cool _ , he built a volcano!” Tony was afraid he might have to comfort a crying kid, but he should’ve known Peter was too sweet to be jealous. “It exploded and everything! It was all like,  _ whoosh!  _ And some lava got on my shoes! I thought it was going to be hot, but it wasn’t!”

Peter took a step closer to Tony and leaned forward, like he wanted to tell Tony a secret. Tony smiled in amusement.

“Ned told me it wasn’t really lava,” he whispered in that childish voice that was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. “He said it was baking soda and vinegar!”

“No!” Tony gasped as Peter stepped back, and the kid nodded vigorously, starting to jump again.

“ _ Yes!  _ Can we make one, Dad? Please? Pretty please?”

_ “Well, um, Dad, Henry made a volcano, and it was kind of cool, so I was wondering if-” _

_ “You want to make one, too?” Tony nodded sheepishly. “Is there another project coming up?” Tony hesitated for a moment, before shaking his head slowly. “So why do you want to make one?” _

_ Tony fiddled with his hands as he looked down at the floor. “I thought it might be… fun,” he mumbled, voice shrinking to a whisper on that final word. Howard groaned. _

_ “You don’t improve, you don’t make money, as a result of  _ fun _.” _

_ Tony nodded. He didn’t know why he expected anything different, and he bit his lip to keep from crying. _

“Okay! Okay, Pete, yes, of course, we can make one.”

Peter began to sprint for the stairs, but Tony called him back.

“Hey! I heard about Ned, how’d you do?”

“Oh! Oh!” Peter came bounding back, like he had forgotten,  _ again _ . Tony was constantly in awe of how quickly his kid’s mind moved. “Ned said the car was  _ so cool!  _ I even gave him the remote and he got to drive it!”

“And what did he think of the special colours you picked?”

“He  _ loved  _ the blue! He says blue is  _ his  _ favourite colour, too!”

“Well, of course it is!” Tony laughed. “Blue is the only acceptable colour.”

“No!” Peter looked offended, but Tony just wanted to laugh at the way his eyebrows were scrunched up. “Your red and gold headlights were awesome!”

“Okay.” Tony reached his arms out and Peter ran crashing into them, nuzzling against his dad’s shoulder as Tony held him close. “Red, gold, and blue.” With one hand against his kid’s curls and the other supporting his torso, Tony stood from the floor with only minor grunts, and started to walk towards the stairs, picking up the trophy on the way out. He left Peter’s backpack behind; they could come back for it later.

_ “Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time on  _ fun _ ,” Howard continued with his hands folded tightly on the desk in front of him, “you wouldn’t have gotten second place.” _

_ Tears began to sting the back of Tony’s eyes. _

_ “Don’t you dare cry, Anthony. Stark men are made of iron. Crying fixes nothing.” Tony nodded, running an arm against his eyes to wipe away the tears. _

_ “Now, go find your mother.” Howard looked back to his checkbook and continued to work like Tony was nothing. _

“You did awesome, Petey-Pie. I’m so proud of you.” Tony felt Peter tense happily, even without seeing his face. “How about some ice cream to celebrate?”

Peter started kicking against Tony’s side in excitement, and Tony laughed as he put his kid down, instead grabbing his hand as they headed for the door. Tony stopped just inside the doorway beside the shelf of keepsakes and displayed the trophy proudly beside a picture of the two of them with frosting on their noses.  _ Pete’s sixth birthday _ , Tony remembered with a smile.

_ “D’you - d’you want to keep my ribbon?” _

_ Howard sighed, looking back up at Tony. _

_ “And why would I want to do that?” _

_ Tony held it up to Howard, eyes hopeful. _

_ “It-it’s my first ribbon.” _

_ Wordlessly, Howard reached his hand out for the ribbon, and Tony bounded forward to give it to him, smiling widely. Howard looked up at Tony, then at the ribbon, and picked up the robot in the same hand… before dropping them in the garbage bin beside his desk. _

_ “No-” Tony tried to protest and reach for the bin, but Howard glared at him, and he shrunk back into himself. _

_ “Come show me if you get a first place ribbon.” _

“I wanna see! I wanna see!” Peter chanted, tugging on Tony’s arm, and he laughed as he lifted Peter to look at the shelf.

“You like it?”

Peter stared for a second, his mouth open in an  _ o _ . Then, slowly, he reached his hand out to touch the photo of the two of them.

“I wanna do that again.”

Tony smiled. “It’s a good thing we’re going to get ice cream, then.”

Peter shivered. “Won’t it be cold?”

“Only if you don’t move in time for me to put it on your nose,” Tony teased, and he touched a finger to Peter’s nose in emphasis.

_ Tony hung his head low as he swiftly left Howard’s office, biting back tears. _

Peter giggled as the door closed behind them.


	4. Chaotic driving lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @day-dreamer176 on Tumblr <3

Tony looked up from his Starkpad when he heard someone walk into the kitchen, and was met with the hunched-over form of Peter Parker. He set his coffee mug down on the table and leaned back in his chair as Peter started rummaging through cabinets with barely even a glance in Tony’s direction.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Tony spoke up with a twinge of amusement, remembering the days when their relationship was still new, and Peter was terrified and timid during their weekly lab sessions. Now, though, with the two of them meeting three times a week and every second weekend, Peter was more comfortable, evident in the way Peter just rolled his eyes as he grabbed a box of crackers and joined Tony at the round table.

“You should straighten out your back.” Tony commented, watching Peter’s hunched form as he stared down at the table. “Fix your posture.”

Peter froze from where he was holding a cracker just in front of his lips and looked up at Tony, squinting one eye analytically. “You’re such a dad.” Tony shrugged and picked up his mug, taking another sip to cover up his smile.

Peter put the cracker in his mouth and spoke through the chewing. “Also, why are you drinking coffee? It’s twelve in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t you worry about me. It’s you who’s eating directly out of a box of crackers -  _ and  _ talking with your mouth full, mind you. Please tell me this isn’t your lunch.”

“Breakfast. I just woke up.” Tony groaned and rested his elbows on the table so he could drop his head in his hands dramatically.

“Peter - and, this is coming from  _ me _ \- your living schedule is astounding.”

“It’s _summer_. There _is_ no schedule.” Tony scoffed in amusement as he put down his mug. “Anyway, I wanna get my license.”

Tony leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, mildly shocked at the sudden change in topic. “Driver’s license?”

“No, pilot’s license,” Peter answered sarcastically. Tony found himself rolling his eyes,  _ again _ .

“Right. You’re sixteen now.”

“Have been for a week. Catch up.”

Tony cocked his head and let his mouth fall open in surprise. Peter looked up and giggled, before reaching into the box of crackers, pulling one out, and launching it at Tony’s mouth. It hit somewhere around Tony’s nose and fell to the floor.

“You’re picking that up,” Tony commented, and Peter smirked. “Have you talked to May?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded as he leaned down to pick up the cracker, then put it in his mouth. Tony had to force himself to remain still, to keep from wincing. “I’m taking my test this Saturday.”

Tony wanted to verify with Peter that today was Tuesday, but was scared of getting talked back to by a teenager, so he just thought it over himself.

“That’s in four days.”

“Yup.”

“Have you studied?”

“No. What for?” Peter looked up at Tony, unbothered, and the man looked back with wide eyes. “What? I know what the road signs mean and everything. I know green means stop, red means go, and yellow means speed up.”

Tony sighed, and Peter giggled behind his hand as he threw another cracker in his mouth.

“Have you at least practised driving a car, around a parking lot, or whatever?” A small blush crept up Peter’s cheeks.

“No,” he mumbled as he straightened in his chair, and Tony could tell he was getting defensive. “But I’ve played Burnout Paradise and I’m really good at it, so, I mean, same thing, right?”

Tony got a look on his face that could only mean one thing, and judging by the way Peter sighed, he knew what was coming. One of Tony Stark’s Bright Ideas.

“You got homework?” Tony asked Peter as he stood from the table and began to walk away from the kitchen.

Peter remained seated and watched him go. “Mr. Stark, it’s  _ summer _ .”

“Good,” the man replied distractedly. “Do it.” Then, he disappeared down the corridor, leaving Peter watching after him in confusion… and slight speculation. Peter thought he knew where this was going.

  * • •



Peter did not know where this was going.

Tony resurfaced not even fifteen minutes later to see Peter lying on his back across three kitchen chairs, his phone held above his face as he typed something on it. Tony called his name, and Peter was so startled, he dropped his phone on his face.

Tony doubled over, laughing, as Peter groaned and stood up, fixing the chairs in their respective places around the table. He rubbed his hands against the dull pains with a frown as Tony recovered, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“It wasn’t  _ that  _ funny,” Peter grumbled, but Tony was still laughing too much to answer. Instead of talking, the older man nodded down the hallway, and Peter followed.

“So, which car are you gonna let me test drive?” Peter asked as he followed Tony through the halls. “ _ Please  _ tell me it’s the Porsche.”

Tony laughed again and Peter saw him shake his head from behind as he turned down a different hallway, one that led  _ away  _ from the garage.

“Yeah, I’m not letting you anywhere  _ near  _ my cars,  _ especially  _ not the Porsche, unless…” Tony finally turned into a room and held his arms wide, “you prove to me you’re as good at Burnout Paradise as you say you are.”

Peter stepped around Tony curiously, and laughed at what he saw.

There was a large, flat screen t.v. across the far wall, displaying the title screen for Burnout Paradise. Peter smiled at the familiarity of such a large piece of his childhood in the honest-to-goodness Stark tower. Across from it were two chairs that were designed to look like those of a car-

Wait.

“Tony, did you dismantle an actual  _ car? _ ”

Tony stepped further into the room with his arms behind his back, inspecting the chairs. “You like it? They’re from my ‘67 Camaro.”

“You dismantled an antique sports car…” Peter stepped into the room, just noticing the real steering wheels and honest-to-goodness stick shifts beside them, “for a  _ video game? _ ”

Tony smiled and shook his head, moving to sit down in a chair and gesturing for Peter to do the same. He complied.

“Not just any video game.”

Tony called out for the game to begin, and sat back, one hand on the wheel, the other on the clutch beside him. Peter, on the other hand, reached his foot for the gas pedal at his feet (which was  _ also  _ authentic) and slammed his foot to the ground, frowning when his on-screen car didn’t move.

“You need to put it in drive, bud.”

Peter’s shot his head around to stare at Tony, looking offended. “You’re kidding.”

Tony shrugged innocently, but Peter glared at it, and placed his hand tentatively on the clutch. His eyes shot over to Tony’s hand where it rested on  _ his  _ clutch, and Tony removed it when he caught Peter looking, wanting the kid to figure it out for himself.

Carefully, Peter moved the clutch to D for drive, and looked back at Tony triumphantly. Tony smirked in response, and nodded his head to the screen.

Confused, Peter looked over to the t.v., and cursed loudly.

“ _ Shit _ -” he scrambled to reposition his hands on the steering wheel to keep his car from rolling backwards down the hill it had previously been resting on. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal and his car shot forward, rear-ending another in the process. Peter put all his weight forward in his chair and slammed his foot on the break, staring at the screen with wide eyes.

Tony blinked slowly, smiling that  _ I-told-you-so, I’m-always-right  _ Tony Stark smile.

“I’m going to let that curse slide-”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter yelled, double-checking that his foot was pressed firmly on the break before he turned to glare at Tony. “What did you do to Burnout Paradise?”

“Not so easy, huh?” he taunted, and Peter glared at him before taking a moment to reassess that his car was still pressed against the back of the one in front of him (which he had yet to realize was Tony’s). At least it wasn’t rolling down the hill.

“Yeah, I fixed the programming a tad. Now, it’s more realistic. So, we’re going to drive through Paradise City, obeying all traffic laws on the way, and you’re going to practise for your test on Saturday.”

“Mr. Stark, this is crazy-”

“Your car’s rolling down the hill.”

Peter’s head snapped to his screen in surprise, and he realized his foot had inched off the break. He slammed it back down, and his car rocked back on the hill, suspended.

“You ready, underoos?”

Peter grit his teeth, and he slowly inched his foot off the break, replacing it with the gas - and slammed into the back of Tony’s car for a second time.

“Ease onto the gas, bud.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he muttered, and tried again this time, letting his car roll down the hill before pressing the gas again, albeit gentler, and turning his wheel to the right. His car lurched across three lanes of traffic.

“Too far,” Tony commented lightly, and Peter’s hands clenched on the wheel.

“Yeah, I got that,” he replied thickly, and turned his wheel to the left - more gently, this time - and slowly brought his car to rest next to the one it had previously been behind. He moved his foot from the gas pedal to the break, before looking at Tony with a defiant glare.

“Good job,” Tony praised, and Peter tried not to look  _ too  _ pleased with the compliment. He was supposed to be mad at Tony, after all.

Tony moved his hand to the horn in the centre of the steering wheel and, keeping his eyes fixed on Peter’s, pressed it twice. When he heard the sound emit loudly from the speakers, Peter shot his head to the screen, and saw the headlights of the car he had rear-ended light up in time with the beeps.

“That was  _ your  _ car?” Peter exclaimed, offended. Tony shrugged with a smirk. “Why didn’t you just  _ move  _ it?”

“I wanted to see how you would avoid it. You failed, by the way.”

Peter groaned and leaned back in his chair, resting his arm over his eyes, letting his foot fall from the brake. His car rolled down the hill, flew off the pier, and landed in the ocean below. Tony watched it with amusement. When the game reset the car in its default starting position, back behind Tony’s car, Tony reached over Peter’s chair and put the car in park for him, before resettling in his own.

“You wanna try again?” he coaxed, but Peter shook his head.

“I’ll figure it out on the day.”

Tony laughed loudly. “Yeah, I think we both just saw why that’s a horrible plan.” He paused for a moment. “Come on, kid. Try again. Spider-Man needs his license.”

“Can’t you just get it for me? Pay them off or something? You’re always offering to  _ pull some strings _ .”

Tony laughed again at Peter’s horrible imitation of him. He knew for a fact that his voice wasn’t that deep.

“You rear-end me one more time, and I’m talking to your examiner to make sure he  _ doesn’t  _ give you your license.”

Peter exhaled, comically drastically,, before letting his arm fall from his eyes and resettling his hands on the wheel. Tony smirked proudly, but tried to bite it back as he placed his foot on the break and put his own car into drive.

“Ten and two,” he commented, and watched Peter reposition his hands without complaint.  _ That’s my boy _ , he thought proudly, and they started driving.

  * • •



Two hours later, Tony followed Peter’s car into a parking lot and watched the kid park directly between two spaces. He swallowed back a laugh; at least Peter had successfully backed in… kind of.

Truth be told, Peter had rear-ended Tony at least three more times, but they were all accidental, and at least Peter was  _ trying _ \- so Tony let them slide.

“Finally,” Peter sighed, putting his car in park and leaning back in his chair. Tony drove his car in beside Peter’s for show (meaning he was double-parked as well), parked it, and turned to stare at Peter.

“Not bad, for your first time.”

“You’re judging me.”

“No,” Tony reassured. “Not at all. It was your  _ first time _ , and that wasn’t too shabby.” Peter lolled his head to the side so he was staring at Tony. “What? I’m being serious. I do think you should reschedule your test, though.”

Peter groaned, shutting his eyes again and letting his head fall back against his chair.

Tony leaned over and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. The kid didn’t react.

“We can practise every day until then, alright? I’m getting you that license. Spider-Man doesn’t ride the bus.”

Peter chuckled lightly, opening his eyes to turn and look at Tony, who smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Pete.” And for everything, including something as trivial as a driving test, Tony meant it.


	5. Please read

I apologize for not updating this work. These stories are prompts and requests from Tumblr, which I always forget to transfer over. I'll no longer be updating it, so for more, feel free to follow my Tumblr, @emeraldmoon :)


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